I need a little Christmas
by Thunderclap
Summary: This is more Rachel and Brad back history. A discovery of where Rachel was born. Why Brad cares about her. And Brad/Shelby angst. Its a one-shot.


I need a little Christmas

The 11 year old boy's head leaned on the window glass. It bobbed and bumped as the black Van with gold racing stripes wandered down the interstate towards her house. An ever-present blur of trees and buildings shot by, dulling his senses during the ride from Columbus. Uncle Brad drove quietly as Mom remained focused on finishing the wrapping of the presents.

"Dyna, you are still not done? Brad called back, a bemused look shining.

She looked up from her pile of cut ribbon and paper rolls, putting beside the clear tape. "Yes. I've one present left. It's for Grandma Josie."

"I see," he smiled. "What is it?"

"A pashmina. She wanted one, so I found a cheap one."

Chuckling filtered back as mom smiled to herself. Then as she gathered up the various parts into a bag, she walked to the front passenger seat and sat down. "Is she coming?" Dyna asked softly. Brad knowing who she was. He looked at the chunky tan car phone. "She called me saying she was going to the hospital yesterday. They have this number and Grandma Josie's." He spoke with a somber tone. Suddenly, the phone warbled. Mom grabbed it, and answered.

A long pause as she listened while Uncle Brad drove. The van turned off the interstate to a 7-eleven® outside Rochester, NY. Finally he took the phone. Mom looked at him after he parked, nodded and she got out. The side door slid open and smell of winter filled the van. Cool breeze bit his nose as he climbed out bundled still in his coat. The last words heard before the van door shut was: So you are coming?"

Full of Slurpee® and hot dogs, he listened to the silence again. They were back on Interstate 90. The blur and roar of the road returned. Only if felt more somber than it did before.

"She had a girl; a beautiful baby girl who has her eyes." The wistfulness echoed. "It was her choice." Mom reminded him. "Is she coming or do we need to stop at the hospital?"

"She's coming. Hiram and Leroy already signed the paper. They take the child home tomorrow."

Mom nodded. He looked at her. "Was there any word from your parents before we left about Christmas?"

The frown she made could be heard from the back seats. "No, they are still angry that I moved to Columbus with you rather than to Albany with them."

"Are we going to see Nanny and Papaw?" Jessa, who was 8, asked from the back seat.

"Yes, dear," she said with upbeat cheerfulness. Yet there was silence until we arrived there three hours later.

The old two story Victorian house with the sash windows and oak front porch was all lit up with an array of twinkling points. Blue, green, red, orange and white flashed like winterized fireflies all around. Even the massive oblong shrubs running the sidewalks and porch were lit. The light post along the walkway held a Christmas wreath around the globe. Santa and his sleigh were parked on one side of the lawn and a manger on the other side. Cheer seemed to flood the place. So when Jim, in tan slacks and a green woolen sweater, stood on the porch with a steaming mug of cocoa, smiling, everything appeared well. Not so.

"Welcome. Nice of you to show, Dyna," He remarked, after a sip of cocoa.

"It's Christmas, Dad," She said back as the children fell behind her.

"Indeed it is. Children, run on inside. Nanny has presents for you." He stepped aside allowing them to run by. Dyna nodded and they took off, whooshing up the stairs and inside the rustic entry hall.

"Have you changed your mind?" He asked bluntly.

"No. They need to be away from the chaos. Columbus is good for them," she said defensively.

"And Albany isn't far enough? I understand. You loved Greg. Still why stay with his brother who is a young adult?"

"I am in college, sir." Brad asked, rubbing his hands in the cold.

"All the more to not have the children there. You need to focus on your studies. Colleges also attract irresponsible behavior. It's not conducive for raising children especially if you're a single parent." He took another sip. His eyes were sad but his voice never changed or rose. Dyna pouted, anger blazing in her eyes.

"Nor is this place. You know it. It's over 100 years old. It's on the National Register of Historic Places. It has issues that you enjoy fixing, which is why you and mom moved in seven years ago. Those same issues are not kid friendly."

Jim blinked, pursed his lips yet said nothing. Brad exhaled, a cloud of fog billowing from his lips. "We should go inside. It's freezing inside."

She shot him a look that sucked the remaining warmth from him. "You never truly liked Greg," she hissed at her father. "Don't patronize me. "You were angry I married 'that surfer bum' to begin with. She hugged her maroon pea coat, clapped her similar colored mittens, and wiped her Olympic blue Uggs® on the mat. The screen door opened swiftly as she stormed through it. Jim shrugged, and turned back to the door. "Why do you do that, sir?" Brad asked.

"I beg your pardon?" He wheeled from the porch.

"Provoke her."

"I did no such thing. I just want these games to end. You should be enjoying your life. You shouldn't have to care for a family. That's what we are here for." He walked in himself, leaving Brad to follow behind him.

The roasted caramel wood shouted elegance as he walked across the entry way into the viewing room. A 10 ft. Noble fir stood in the corner, fully decked in red and green balls, popcorn strings and golden tinsel. Soft white lights cast a warm glow. Small golden packages rested in piles under the tree on a felt green wrap. "I'm sorry. Jim comes off a bit gruff. It's just we want the best for our girl." The older lady with the drawn worry lines, crow's feet around her cobalt eyes and tight rust red bun stood sympathetic.

Brad looked at Mrs. Kelly, her round, chubby face flushed red with warmth. "I do too. It wasn't offered lightly. You know the stress the murder caused. How at least we got the media to go quietly. She needs someone to lean on. Jim isn't it."

"Apparently not," He said as he walked in. "The children are off in library relaxing with cocoa and their toys. Dyna is locked in the bathroom, again." A disappointed look held his face. Yet anger and confusion sat there as well. "Are you staying the night or will this be it for this year."

The words tumbled out harder than he had meant, because she frowned deeply. He sighed, his carefully crafted mask exposing a crack.

"I had wanted too. However, I will leave that up to Dyna now. May I ask a question?"

"Sure. It can't get any worse," he commented.

"Jim!" she yelped, tossing a sharp glare.

"Yes. Ask away."

"What was wrong with Greg?"

Jim hemmed and hawed for a moment, frankly shocked. Brad held this sad cast about him, his joy leaking away.

"He struck me as irresponsible. Who makes skiing a career?" Jim frowned, his irritation echoing.

"So would you say a music teacher is better?" Brad offered. Both of them looked at him oddly. "He was a music teacher?"

"Yes. He's the reason I am going for a teaching degree rather than drama. I don't want his dream to die with him. Besides I was never that good of an actor anyway. I will get my bachelor's and then I will go teach music to children somewhere. Who knows, I might find a prodigy." Brad grinned.

Dyna walked back into the room with her coat on. The children stood behind her, sad, clutching their toys. She held the Nintendo NES system in her hands. "I think we should go. I wanted to make Josie's house by nightfall." Her face was deep crimson, her eyes puffy and dark. The smeared mascara had been wiped away. She sniffled.

"Ok. Your choice." Jim said as he walked off. Everyone watched in shock.

"I tried." Brad said softly, sadness etched.

The road rolled on again. After a night at a Holiday Inn®, they arrived at Grandma Josie's house in the morning dawn. Grandma Josie was actually Brad and Greg's grandmother. Looking like wrinkled peach velvet, she hobbled around on a steel walker, wrapped in thick crocheted wraps. She stood in the silent chill illuminated by fitful lights strung quickly. Santa was in this manger scene with chickens and a goat. Of course someone sat Jay and Silent Bob standees in the scene as well. _They would have to be removed. At least it wasn't a Samuel L. Jackson from Pulp Fiction. _

As everyone piled out of the van, Sean approached to get the gifts. "How are you doing, son?"

"Fine. A small issue when we stopped to visit her family. Other than that I'm fine."  
"Shelby's here. She seems dark. I can't seem to say anything to help. She's a shell." He looked unsure as he pulled out the presents. Brad nodded.

They walked into the same small four bedroom colonial house in Roxbury neighborhood that Josie and Bill bought before World War two. As he walked alone the cracked sidewalk, Brad noticed the vacant, trash filled lots and burned out buildings nearby. "They still leave her alone. I've tried to get to her to move into our Brownstone in Mission Hill but she won't have it. This will be her last Christmas I fear." He seemed a touch despondent.

As Brad passed through the worn, dented, gunmetal grey door, he sat the presents down on an end table nearby. "I'm still here," He whispered gently, holding her to him. She felt small in his arms.

"I think I did something horrible that I can't undo. I'm such a fool," she lamented, staring hollow at the floor. He released her, holding her face in his hands. "You are beautiful, vivacious and warm. You are my shining gold star."

Softly she smiled. Then it faded as reality seeped back in.

"I gave her to Hiram. He has my daughter. And now, I can't see her for 18 years."

Suddenly, a group of carolers stopped in front of the house. As the songs of the birth of the savior of the savior rang out. Brad leaned over. "I had a dream. She's going to be a music prodigy. She would steal Debbie Gibson's writing crown, get a Grammy and be on Broadway in a starring role. Can you see it?" She nodded as the tears rolled down. "Thank you. I needed that little bit of Christmas. Do they mind if I stay before I go to New York?"

Brad looked despondent. "No. This is the first year without Greg. Of course you are welcome. I was hoping you would return with me."

"I need this. So, no. Come with…" she stopped when Dyna walked around. "New years in Times Square at least?"

"Go. We will be fine here for the rest of the month," Dyna nodded, with a small smile. "At least someone will get something out of this horrid year."

"I think someone got a miracle. Didn't they?" Brad asked Shelby. She leaned on his shoulder. "They did."


End file.
